Page 12 of Come to Me

As Tate had apologized to Patrick, it was clear he felt regret and understood the need for restitution. It told Patrick that Tate wasn’t a child who normally caused problems. The way Michaela and his grandparents dealt with him suggested this behavior was new, and they weren’t sure what to do about it.

Patrick had long ago learned to not bring out his professional hat into non-professional situations. For reasons he couldn’t determine as he walked out on breakfast, he’d broken that rule. He regretted it because it wasn’t his place to give his analysis of the child’s behavior.

For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he’d been enjoying being in a family setting, and he’d ruined it. His mother had always been the one to ruin a meal with her criticism or professional assessment on his and Julia’s behavior. This time he was that person and it embarrassed him.

Perhaps it was time to cut his losses and head back home. Before he could do that, he needed to deal with the rental car.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking to see if he had any bars. Three. That should be good enough to call the rental company. He pulled up the rental reservation on his phone and pressed the phone number on it to call. After a few rings, a voicemail came on indicating the company didn’t open until eight. He checked his watch. Seven forty-five.

Not wanting to stand around for fifteen minutes, he took the path around the house to avoid his hosts and down to his cabin. Inside the cabin, he pulled his bag out from the small closet and tossed it on the bed. He hadn’t unpacked so all he needed to get was his grooming gear.

“Giving up?”

He swung around toward the door. Michaela leaned against the door frame. She’d changed into khaki shorts and a red t-shirt. Her hair was down but restrained by the red bandana worn like a headband. Her makeup was light, except for the red lipstick.

“The door was open,” she said, when he didn’t respond. “It’s usually a good idea to keep it closed because of the bugs. I want to put screen doors on the cabins but the roof needs work first.”

Patrick had always considered himself a strong, decisive man who knew his mind. He understood people. That image faltered after realizing Julia was mentally disturbed. Now, his sense of self was completely lost. Something about this place, this woman, this situation was messing with him.

“I don’t think this is what I need,” he finally said, although he hated how weak it made him seem.

“Why? Because we don’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Do they have a camp for that? Camp Freud?”

She wasn’t going to pull any punches. For reasons he didn’t understand, he liked that about her.

As if he remembered how badly he behaved he said, “I owe you and your parents an apology.”

“You also owe Tate the chance to teach you how to skip rocks.” She studied him. “Surely you know you can’t make a plan with a kid then renege on it.”

He smiled, which was weird because she was pointing out something he should have considered. “No.”

“So, are you packing or unpacking?”

She put him on edge. Off kilter. But in a way that fascinated him.

“I’m unpacking.”

She smiled and it was like seeing the sun for the second time that day.

“Good.” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t know what to make of you, Dr. Andres.”

“I feel the same about you, Ms. Kincaid.”

Her eyes flashed with intrigue. “It will be fun to find out, don’t you think?”

It sounded dangerous. “I do.”

She turned to leave but stopped, turning back to him. “We shouldn’t have been so gruff with you at breakfast.”

He waved his hand. “I was out of line. You were right. It wasn’t my place.”

“Normally, I’d agree with that, but you know people. Tate is a good boy but he’s having a hard time since losing his mama. It breaks my heart.”

“Grief is difficult.” He knew firsthand. He hadn’t lost his sister to death, but he’d lost her because he hadn’t gotten her help. That guilt hung heavy in his heart.

“He’s taken to you. He’s been sullen and angry, but this morning he took your hand and chatted with you like the little boy I used to know.”

The tightness in his chest loosened slightly. It had been a long time since he’d felt he’d made a difference in someone’s life.

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